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A blond-haired man walked into a dimly lit venue, reaching for one of the stools before taking his seat at the bar where a man was arranging drinks with His back turned to him. With a black bow tying up the outfit on His collar, an equally colored vest clad over His white button-up, He turned around to face the new customer, his fair visage obscured by the blinding pale LEDs of the lights hanging overhead.
“Otto,” the figure spoke softly. “It's about time you visited. What'll you have today?”
“Welt,” Otto acknowledged the other with a call of His name, his emerald eyes widening for a split second before a chuckle slipped past his lips. “My mistake, I almost didn't recognize you.”
“It's Omega today,” Welt expressed, pale, almost skeletal fingers tapping against the rim of a bottle before turning his attention to the man in front of Him, placing His hand on the tabletop and rolling up His sleeves.
“Omega then,” the Overseer corrected himself. “My mistake.”
“So what'll you have?” The other prompted. “You could try today's special, the Mea Máxima Culpa.”
“Hah,” Otto replied with a snicker. “How strong is it?”
“Strong enough,” Welt answered simply, returning the other's smile with his own.
“That's all I need to know.” Otto gave an approving gesture with his hand which coaxed an agreeing hum out of the Herrscher, who quickly got to work on the drink.
The bartender took out a knife out of the utensil drawer, brandishing it in His hand before drawing it on His own palm and letting the sharp edge sink into His skin, crafting an incision on the tender flesh. He let the crimson liquid seeping from the fresh wound bleed down and drop into the martini glass below, then reaching for a bottle of wine and pouring some of its contents into to make a pseudo-cocktail - earning an eyebrow raise from the blond.
“So what brings you here?” Welt prompted once more, taking out a silk handkerchief and using it to bandage His wounded hand.
“A drink,” Otto answered simply.
“If you wanted a drink, you'd get your wine and stay in your mancave.” The Herrscher countered, offering the other his drink by setting it on the bar’s table. “What brings you here?”
“It's a sanctum.” the Overseer’s brows furrowed, taking the glass into his hand.
“I stand by my statement,” Welt insisted alongside a small smile He couldn't hold in.
Otto himself was unable to stifle a laugh at the other's blunt rebuttal, yet it was short-lived, emerald eyes averting their gaze from Him, looking askance for a split second before attempting to meet His own. Despite his attempt to look into the man's eyes, however, he ultimately failed to do so, the strobelights in front of Him appearing so blinding, so pale that His visage appeared nearly blank, like a ghost - or, perhaps, the grim reaper himself. When he sent a glance His way, his eyes couldn't help but flutter and flicker away as if he were looking at the Sun itself.
Out of curiosity, perhaps awe as well, he reached out a hand gloved in white silk, fingers finding the other's form only to find it… off. The contact felt unnatural and foreign, the dream he found himself in not lending itself to realism and instead bordering into unreal territory. Even though he was touching the man, He appeared to be almost out of reach, eternally.
Instead, he opted to take a sip of his drink, letting the metallic taste linger on his tongue before swallowing. Once that was done, he set it down with a sigh.
“Old friend…” He began. “How does… death feel like?”
“Death?” Welt cocked his head. “Is that what this is about?”
“Maybe,” Otto responded, emerald eyes flickering away for a few moments then looking back at the man in front of him before replying. “But you knew that already, I'd bet.”
“Maybe,” the Herrscher parroted the other's previous statement Himself. “What do you want to know about it?”
“How… How does it feel?”
“Everyone always describes it as your life flashing before your eyes when you experience death but it's more like… a slow drag of everything you've ever done coming to your mind like a slideshow before finally concluding with the present,” He explained. “I… had no regrets in dying. I lived a life. A full one.”
“Even though I took so much away from you?” Otto pried, holding the drink up to his lips once again and tasting the metallic liquid on his tongue before swallowing.
“I didn't even so much as think of what you did to me as I died,” Welt confessed. “I just thought of… everything and everyone who made my life better. Of who I'd become. I wouldn’t trade it for anything”
“I see…”
Otto brought the drink up to his lips again, letting time pass as his emerald eyes fixed on the other who was cleaning a dirty glass. Despite this, however, he noticed no one else could be found in the venue, leaving this dreamscape as a space for the two of them alone. Once he ensured the privacy of the area, he let a shaky sigh slip past his lips and set the glass down on the table. Welt raised a curious brow, setting His hand on His hip and turning to the man in front of him quizzically.
“If… if there is a heaven…” The Overseer began once again, interrupting the silence with his barely heard words, a susurration only for the other to hear. “Will you be waiting for me there?”
“Oh, you utter Clown,” He chuckled with a tilt of His head. “We both know you're not getting into heaven.”
Otto laughed along bitterly.
“Yes, I suppose not,” he replied. “But please, amuse me.”
“Hmm.” He cocked His head to the side. “Would that imply I'd be going to hell with you?”
“Perhaps,” Otto agreed with a snicker. “After all, I put you through the Inferno, right?”
“You mean you're my own personal hell?” Welt questioned. “That if I were to go there, I'd be punished with your presence alone?”
“Cruel, would it be not?” The Overseer asked, playing with the glass in his hand.
“I'd manage,” Welt replied alongside a shrug.
“Yes, I suppose you would.” Otto hummed.
Silence engulfed the two as Otto finished his drink, a signal that their time together was over. A sigh slipped from his lips, and he could feel the other's gaze on him as he began to prop himself up.
“Thank you for indulging me, my dear friend,” the Overseer pushed himself off the stool and stood up, straightening the green tie on his collar. “But it's about time I leave.”
“Already?” The Herrscher raised a brow as the other turned to leave.
“It's not my time yet,” Otto concluded, ceasing his steps not before looking back over his shoulder for a split second simply to take a gander at the man tending to His drinks. “But I will see you sooner than later. Goodbye, old friend… I'll see you on the other side.”